Bella Summer Takes a Chance

by Michele Gorman

  ‘All right,’ Clare said. ‘Please sit down. You’re making a spectacle. The last thing I need is to call more attention to myself.’ Chastened but grinning, we retook our seats. Hairy Biker squeezed Kat as soon as she rejoined him, and kissed her forehead. ‘Lord knows it’s not going to be easy. I will take you up on your offers to help, so they’d better not be empty promises.’

  ‘What about The Shag?’ Kat enquired, emboldened by the recent disclosure.

  ‘I haven’t made any decisions about that, Kat. So please don’t push me. He’s still insisting that we’ll make the perfect couple but honestly, I’m not interested in a relationship. Let alone sex. God, I can’t imagine ever doing it again.’

  ‘You’ll change your mind. About the sex, I mean,’ Kat clarified, seeing Clare’s warning look. ‘Once your hormones calm down again and your body goes back to normal. Are you sure you only want to take a few months off, though?’

  ‘I’m sure. Even if it weren’t a new job, I wouldn’t want to stay at home. Kat, I don’t know how you managed with the boys. It takes the kind of selflessness that I just don’t have. You know me. If I gave up work, I’d be miserable. Besides, the new hours are very reasonable, and I’m going to have someone to watch him, her, it. It’s better this way. If I stayed at home, I’d be unhappy and that wouldn’t be good for the baby. I’ve thought a lot about this, and I’ve worked it out. I can do it all. You know how some people get night nurses, right? They stay with the baby at night and do the feedings. You remember, B., Fiona had one when she had the twins. She raved about what a lifesaver she was. Well, they do that overnight. I’ll just be doing the opposite. I’m at work while the baby eats and sleeps on the nanny’s watch, then I’m with the baby the other two thirds of the time. So it’s exactly what a night nurse would do, except I’ll be shattered from getting up every two hours during the night. Yay, lucky me. Exhausted and probably judged a bad mother for going back to work.’

  ‘Clare, nobody’s going to judge your decisions,’ Faith said.

  ‘Oh, but you’re wrong, Faith. Everybody judges your decisions when they see the bump. It’s as if the pregnancy, the birth, the child all become communal property. People feel they’ve got the right to tell you what you should be doing. Trust me, they judge. I’m happy with my decisions. I’ve weighed up all the alternatives and I’m satisfied. My new employer may not be, but they’ll get their pound of flesh.’

  ‘Clare, I’m so happy for you,’ said Faith. ‘You’re going to be such a cool, level-headed mother. He, she, it… will be so lucky to have you… but can we please stop calling it “It”?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, sorry. I didn’t want to know the sex before when they did the scans, in case I decided to give It up for adoption. Now I want the surprise.’ She smiled.

  ‘Fair enough,’ Faith said. ‘I’d want it to be a surprise too. And Clare? We’ll never judge you, you know. We love you and completely support you. Even if you decide, wrongly, not to get together with The Shag.’ She smirked. They both knew that Faith may not judge, but she also wouldn’t stop fighting The Shag’s corner.

  ‘Faith, you wouldn’t be you if you let things drop. I love you anyway. That’s why you make such a good reporter.’

  ‘Tell that to my bosses. Really, please tell them. At the rate I’m going I may have to sleep my way to the middle. Though I did finally get an invitation to one of my boss’s famous dinners. Careers are made and broken at these things. B., you can still come with me, right?’

  ‘Absolutely. Shame Frederick’s out of town.’ He couldn’t miss his mother’s seventieth birthday, inconveniently located in the village where he grew up. I was surprised to learn that despite his urbane manner he was a country bumpkin at heart. It probably accounted for his penchant for flat caps.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘You’re an acceptable substitute. They know you’re coming. And I might have talked up your singing a bit, so be warned.’

  ‘Oh no, why’d you do that?’ I had visions of being the impromptu after-dinner entertainment.

  ‘Because I’m proud of you, sweetheart. You’re a true talent, and great things lie in store. So shoot us for bragging about you.’

  Clare and Kat nodded vigorously. Their belief in me was absolute. I didn’t have the heart to tell them about my conversation with People. I had called her when I got home from the hospital, just like I’d planned. When she said she remembered me, sycophantic drivel spilled from my mouth. She let me carry on before neatly cutting me off at the knees. She was taking on very few clients, she explained, but she wished me all the luck in finding the right manager. It didn’t so much prick my balloon as blow a howitzer-sized hole through it. Bits of dream floated down around me.

  Chapter 20

  Faith was uncharacteristically nervous when we met at the Tube near her boss’s house. ‘Okay, there are just a couple of things to keep in mind,’ she said as we made our way to his address. ‘You know Ken. You met him at my birthday drinks, so you know he’s an arsehole. But please try to be nice to him. And if he makes a joke, just laugh this time. He’s used to sycophants. His wife’ll be there too. Wait till you see her. I don’t know most of their friends but I’m sure they’re called things like Felicity or Araminta, so you know the type. Do I look okay?’

  ‘You’re beautiful.’ She hardly ever had crises of confidence when it came to her appearance. While the rest of us fretted over too-blue eyeliner, flyaway hair, the wrong bra and pinchy waistbands, she never fidgeted, instead swiping on a bit of lip gloss and smiling through her perfection. I’d have hated her if I didn’t know her. ‘You don’t need to be nervous, it’ll go well. Do I look all right?’

  ‘Gorgeous. It’s just that it’s taken me over two years to get one of these invitations. Ken’s parties are legendary for making careers. If you’re invited, you could be on the way to great things. Unless you fuck up. I know of two who did. They’re no longer with us.’

  ‘Were they murdered?’

  ‘Don’t joke. They were…’ She made ditto marks with her fingers. ‘… managed out.’

  ‘Wow, and you’re trusting me not to fuck it up for you? Brave.’

  ‘Desperate. The invitation was plus one. I told Ken I’d come on my own and he told me to find someone to bring along. Maybe they don’t want to mess up the seating arrangements.’

  ‘Maybe he wants to judge you by the company you keep.’

  It wasn’t exactly my cultural milieu. My flat with Mattias was surrounded by kebab shops and bars, not Kenzo and Balenciaga. Faith’s boss lived in a townhouse. As did we, except ours had three buzzers at the front door instead of just the one. ‘I didn’t realise being a newspaper editor paid so well.’

  ‘It doesn’t. It’s his wife’s money. They bought this a few years ago and had it completely renovated. There’s a lift in the drive. Like the bat cave. He drives over it and lowers the car into the underground garage.’

  ‘Why doesn’t he just use a normal garage like other people?’

  ‘He needed the room for the home cinema.’ She rolled her eyes.

  I was immensely looking forward to the evening. Some people provided such a rich seam for parody. ‘What a shame Fred couldn’t come. He’d love this, but I’m happy to be his alternate. I’m really glad things seem to be going so well between you.’

  She grinned. ‘Thanks, me too. It’s remarkable what can happen when you let go of all the silly criteria. I shudder to think of it. I mean it, B.,’ she said to my feigned denial. ‘Sometimes I marvel when I think of all the reasons I had for dumping men. If I’d known someone like me, I’d have thought she was insane. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  A clear case of I-told-you-so amnesia. ‘The reasons were valid to you at the time, so you couldn’t ignore them. And we did tell you, if you remember. Many times. You ignored us. Should we have been more insistent?’

  ‘No, you’re right, I wouldn’t have listened. It’s okay, I recognise that now. I don’t know how it happened, how I
became such a judgmental bitch.’

  ‘You were never a bitch. You just had… well, let’s call them high standards. Sort of the Felix Ungar of the dating world.’

  She laughed. ‘That seems like another person now, and I keep wondering how it happened. I mean, I think I changed, but how? I can’t work out what’s cause and what’s effect. Maybe I fell in love with Frederick because I stopped paying attention to all the requirements I had. Or maybe I ignored the list because I’d met Frederick. Maybe if any of those other guys had really been “the one” I’d have overlooked their flaws. Or maybe I grew up and realised that I didn’t need a long list. I just wish Clare would realise that. I know you don’t like to see us argue but this is why. She’s carrying around a bunch of silly reasons that The Shag can’t be her boyfriend, and yet he’s doing all the important things. And we all know she loves him. She’s just being stubborn, and purposely blind. It’s the fundamentals that are important, not the other stuff. I wish she’d see that. She’s got a man who’s devoted, who wants to be involved with their baby, who puts her needs first. He puts up with her mood swings, which is more than we can say, and we’ve loved her for years.’

  She was right about that. I usually tried to gauge Clare’s moods (plural) remotely before submitting to them in person.

  ‘It doesn’t matter that he rides a skateboard to work, or that he doesn’t like champagne,’ she continued. ‘Which admittedly is a bit weird. My point is that she shouldn’t completely dismiss him because of these small things when the important things are all there. Take me and Frederick. It doesn’t matter that he leaves used dental floss on the side of the sink, or wears socks to bed. It doesn’t bother me that his jaw clicks when he chews.’

  ‘What about putting leftovers in their pans in the fridge instead of using plastic containers?’

  ‘That does drive me mad, but I cope. And I hate that he doesn’t flush the loo after he wees. If it’s yellow–’

  ‘Let it mellow. I know. I lived in fear of the up-splash when I had to go in the middle of the night. You’re right, I think Clare should give The Shag a chance. She obviously loves him, though she changes the subject every time I ask her. I guess she’s embarrassed after refusing to be seen in public with him for so many years. She’s always been pretty harsh about him. She’s got a lot of words to eat. And you know she’s had no appetite for months.’ I smiled at my own cleverness as we arrived at the door. ‘Ready to dazzle your boss?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘As I’ll ever be.’

  A small smiling woman dressed in black greeted us.

  ‘Hi, I’m B.,’ I said, sticking my hand out to the woman.

  ‘May I take your coats?’ She asked with a thick accent.

  ‘Er, thanks.’ Nice entrance, B., mistaking the maid for the host. ‘Faith! You make the introductions, okay?’

  ‘That was very smooth. Don’t worry, I’ll brief you.’

  I may not have been the career asset that Faith hoped for. I wasn’t exactly au fait with playing the corporate wife. Wining and dining hadn’t been in Mattias’ job description when we were together. I hesitated to call urban planners geeks, but they were very nice, very smart geeks. Their get-togethers tended to be at the local pub after work. Their annual Christmas party was their only organised event and that was still at the local pub. We just dressed up a bit.

  The living room was crowded, with a rather high waiter-to-guest ratio. Maybe they planned to feed us our canapés personally. Crab puff with a side of waiter’s fingerprints. ‘Faith, how many of these people do you know?’

  ‘Not many. There’s Fionnula. She had a thing with Ken last year. She’s got her own office.’

  I didn’t know whether that was the cause or the consequence of the affair. ‘And he invited her?’

  ‘It looks like he’s invited them all. There’s Cressida. I think that’s still going on. And Valentina. She acts like it’s still going on, but it was just the one Christmas party.’

  ‘And everyone knows about these affairs?’

  ‘Of course. It’s a very incestuous industry. Everyone sleeps with everyone.’

  ‘What about you? Who’ve you slept with?’

  ‘B., my most glamorous assignment has involved hiding behind bins. Do you rate my sexual ability that low? Believe me, though, if I got the chance, I’d have considered it.’

  ‘Seriously? With him?’

  Our host was slowly working his way around the enormous room. He was in his mid-fifties, with a head of limp greying locks that made him look like he’d recently been dragged from the sea. Added to the way in which his chinos stretched snugly across an almost square expanse of flat bottom and you had all the hallmarks of a man who got women into bed with big promises. ‘That’s not his wife!’ I said of the stunner who’d just joined him.

  ‘It is. Incredible, isn’t it?’

  She was tall and slim, but not skinny. She looked sporty, maybe an equestrian. Her hair was just the right shade of honey blonde, swinging down her back in thick ringlets. Straight teeth flashed as she laughed. ‘You said she’s rich, right?’ Faith nodded. ‘And obviously beautiful. Is she stupid?’

  ‘Incredibly clever. And fun and nice.’

  ‘Then he must have something on her. Some terrible family secret that she’s married him to protect. Is it something sexual? Is she a hermaphrodite? A Thai ladyboy? What? What is it? How is this possible? Tell me!’

  She held her index fingers a couple of feet apart.

  ‘No! Really? But that’s an exaggeration, right?’ I could only see his monstrous backside. Not that I expected it to be hanging from his zip, but like seeing the scene of a momentous event without seeing the event itself, the lay of the land sometimes gave you an inkling. ‘I don’t think it would be worth it.’

  ‘That’s not all,’ she sang with a wicked gleam. ‘He can make a woman come every time.’

  ‘Even–’

  ‘Even those who don’t. Yep. They say he has,’ she lowered her voice. ‘Techniques. That he’s incredible. That’s probably why she married him. And why she sticks around.’

  ‘Maybe he’s a nice guy.’

  ‘No, he’s a dick.’

  ‘That does seem to be his defining feature.’

  Noise levels rose along with the champagne bubbles in our bloodstreams. It was clear which guests were Ken’s friends and which were his work contacts. The former were collagened and botoxed to the eyeballs in order to pass for the latter, who really were in their twenties and thirties. I didn’t condemn the fight against ageing. It was easy to be judgmental, until gravity lowered our principles along with our bustline.

  ‘Hello, I’m Faith,’ she said to one of the older ladies we sidled up to. ‘And this is B.’

  ‘Howdoyoudo. Lady Farfegnugen, and this is my daughter Sage.’

  I wondered whether her sisters, Paprika and Onion, were coming later. ‘Are you friends of Ken’s?’ I enquired instead.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said the older woman. ‘A friends of Pippa’s, actually. Our families are old chums. We grew up nearly next-door neighbours in Sussex. And you?’

  ‘I’m Faith’s date. She works with Ken.’ Faith was busy talking to a man who I presumed was Lord Farfegnugen.

  ‘Oh. Oh, well, that’s wonderful. You know, I’ll tell you something.’ She looked like a woman who often liked to tell you something. ‘I was really most pleased when those laws were passed. You people should have all the same rights.’

  Who, Canadian-Americans?

  ‘Ah, no,’ Faith intervened, catching the end of the conversation. ‘B. is my friend. She’s not my friend.’

  ‘Well, it would be fine if she were,’ said Parsley. ‘Mummy’s very liberal like that. Aren’t you Mummy? Tell them about the decorator.’ She had the widest set eyes I’d seen outside a Manga comic, making her look like she normally travelled by spacecraft.

  ‘Thank you, but we’re not.’

  ‘Who’s not what?’ Ken asked as he approached. If only I c
ould keep my eyes from darting to his crotch.

  ‘B.’s not my, er, husband. Or wife. Partner. Civil partner. She’s not. She’s just my friend.’

  He grinned. ‘I didn’t have you down as a lesbian. Not that it’d make any difference to me. I’m an equal opportunity employer. The courts have said so.’

  Faith laughed heartily. I threw him a chuckle in support. As any good wife would.

  ‘Ken,’ I said. ‘Your house is lovely. These are really interesting statues.’ The room was filled with stone carvings of exotic large-breasted women.

  ‘Thanks. They’re from Angkor Wat. Took us bloody ages to get them but Pippa was determined not to give up. We visited a few years ago. Do you know there’s nothing inside? Completely empty. Waste of a day if you ask me but Pippa had her heart set on it.’

  ‘Did you have problems with the permits?’ Asked Parsley. ‘Mummy had a deuce of a time getting our marbles. Those little governments can be very unhelpful. I don’t understand it. It’s not as though they’re doing anything with them. Half the time they just moulder in a corner somewhere. Do you know, I was in the Cairo museum once and saw ancient artefacts literally piled in the corners? It’s much better that we have them. At least we take care of them.’

  ‘Those people don’t understand,’ Lady Farfegnugen observed without a whiff of embarrassment. ‘It’s for their own good that we have these things. At least they’re preserved this way. Just look at the Elgin Marbles. The Egyptians don’t even have air conditioning. Imagine how long they’d last there.’

  ‘Greeks,’ I said.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Greece, not Egypt. The Elgin Marbles come from the Parthenon. In Greece.’ I knew this because I went to the British Museum a few weeks earlier with Frederick in an attempt to do something more cultural with him than watch sitcoms and give each other facials.

  ‘The Greeks don’t have air conditioning either,’ she declared.